He is inside her without warning and Ilithyia's head falls back against the wall behind her, as a startled, pleased moan escapes from between her lips. Not far, people pass by on the street, yet no one looks their way and she knows they would not stop even if they were to be noticed. It is too much, too many months of desire and anger to be truncated by the attention of strangers.

Using her leg and hands both, she drags him to her, fully seated inside her, and when she kisses him this time, there is teeth and tongue and the hand on his hip curls under, nails biting into skin. It is cruel and hard, and more than anything, it is exactly that cruelty she has so desired from him.